Wildfire
by theBringerofWar
Summary: "The fire was vibrant below her extended legs. ...she launched herself out of the plane. This was the greatest feeling in the world to her." Anna suffers a terrible loss and she meets Elsa while she's trying to recover. Maybe the platinum blonde can help her set her life back on the right track. [ElsAnna]
1. Caught in the Downwind

**A/N: Thought this was an interesting idea. Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Caught in the middle of the unrelenting wind above the Bitterroots, the jump ship fought to find its stream. Fire boiled over the land, its fists springing up through towers of smoke as if trying for a knockout.

From her seat Anna Dean angled to watch a seriously pissed off Mother Nature. She knew she'd be inside of it in just minutes, enclosed in the crazy world of choking smoke and searing heat. She'd rage war against this fire, a war she didn't intend to lose.

Her stomach jumped along with the plane, a sensation she had learned to ignore. She had flown almost all of her life, and she had been fighting wildfires since her eighteenth birthday. For the last half of those six years, she jumped fire.

She had studied, trained, and fought harder than anyone else to become a smoke jumper.

Anna stretched her legs out as best she could and rolled her shoulders under her pack to keep them loose.

Beside her, her jump partner watched her movements, his fingers doing a fast tap dance on his knee caps. "She looks like a mean one."

"We're meaner."

He shot her a fast smile, all of his teeth in view. "You bet."

Anna could all but feel the nerves riding along his skin. This was the end of his first season, and Kristoff Bjorgman still needed to pump himself up for a jump. After a moment she took in a breath and figured that some always would. She was supposed to jump first on this load, and Kristoff would be right behind her. If he needed someone to pump him up, she'd be more than willing.

"We're gonna kick ass out there. This is the first real bitch we've jumped in almost two weeks." She smiled and gave him a soft elbow jab. "And you thought the season was done."

Kristoff's fingers continued to tap on his kneecaps to some inner rhythm. "Nah, that was Sven," he insisted, still smiling from ear-to-ear as he deflected the claim onto his brother.

"Should have known that's what you get with a couple of farm boys. I bet you have a hot date tonight?"

"Aren't all of my dates hot?"

Anna couldn't really argue with that. Kristoff never had a problem picking up women, ever since he settled down into his own. He had tried for her at one point, but was goodnatured about her shutdown. She wasn't necessarily batting for that team, and she had a firm policy against dating within the unit.

If it weren't for those two reasons, she might have been tempted. He had a gleam in his eyes, a cute grin, and an open, innocent face. He was a sweet kid, but he'd never do it for Anna.

Kristoff started to rock a little in his seat, his fingers still tapping away. Anna gave him a small nudge because those fingers were starting to concern her. "Everything okay with you?"

His brown eyes met hers for an instant, but then they shifted away, his knees doing a bounce under his fingers. "There's no problem. Everything is going to be smooth, as always. I need to get down there."

Anna put a hand over Kristoff's, trying to still him. "Just keep your head in the game."

"My head is there," he said. "Once we get down there, she'll be no match for us. And I'll make my hot date tonight."

Probably not, Anna thought. Her view of the fire put it at a solid two or three days of hard work.

_If _things went their way.

Anna reached for her helmet, and nodded toward their spotter. "Getting ready. Stay chill."

"I'm ice."

Grand Pabbie -so dubbed because he was like a grandpa to everyone, even though he wasn't _that _old- wound his way through the load of jumpers and equipment to the back of the plane and attached his harness to the restraining line.

He shouted out a warning to guard their reserves before pulling the door open to a rush of wind tainted with smoke. As Pabbie reached for the first set of streamers, Anna placed her helmet over her strawberry-blonde hair, strapped it, and adjusted her face mask.

Pabbie called, "Left!" into his headset, and the pilot turned the plane. The second set of streamers then dropped out. "Take her to three thousand!" he then shouted.

Anna rose to the take position as first man, first stick. "Don't get caught in the downwind," she said to Kristoff.

"I got this, Anna," he said.

She saw his grin behind the bars of his face mask, but there was something in his eyes, just for a flash. Anna started to say something else, but Pabbie called out, "Are you ready?"

'We're ready," she called back.

"Hook up."

Anna snapped the line in place.

"Get in the door!"

Anna dropped to sitting, legs out, and body leaning back. The fire was vibrant below her extended legs.

"You see the spot?" Pabbie asked.

She nodded. "Yes."

"Get ready."

Anna grabbed both sides of the door and sucked in a breath. When the spotter's hand slapped her shoulder she launched herself out of the plane.

This was the greatest feeling in the world to her. She counted off in her mind, something that was almost as automatic as breathing. She then rolled and caught sight of Kristoff hurtling after her.

She turned again and with a yank and jerk, her canopy burst open. She watched for Kristoff again and felt relieved when she saw his chute open and spread against the sky. She gripped on to her steering toggles.

The wind was insistent on dragging her in one direction, but she fought back, being just as insistent on the other. She dragged hard on her toggle, and glanced over to see Kristoff get caught in the downwind and go into a spin.

"Pull right!" she shouted.

"I got it!" he called back.

But he pulled left.

"Right, Kristoff! Right!"

She turned for her seamless land in the clear path in sheer panic. Anna hit the jump site, and rolled, slapping her release. She heard it as she stood in the center of the blaze.

She heard Kristoff's scream.

* * *

The scream followed Anna as she shot up in bed, echoing in her head as she sat huddled in the dark.

_Stop! _she orders herself before dropping her head on to her up drawn knees, regaining control of her breathing. She then stands from the bed and throws her curtains open, shedding some light on the bleak space.

She can't shake what happened from her mind, and she doesn't want to think about it. She puts on her running pants, shoes, and a sports bra- to prepare for her morning run. It's the only thing that can possibly clear her mind.

Before she leaves her apartment, she snags her iPod and a bottled water.

The park she likes to run in is a three minute run from her apartment. It has plenty of runners during the day, but in the mornings it's relatively clear. There's a lake in the center, and its always felt like one of the most calming things to Anna.

One of the reasons she picked this apartment.

Her feet hit the pavement on the path circling the park and she throws a headphone in one ear, preparing to do the same for the other, but she witnesses a woman being taken out by a biker.

_Idiots need to watch where they're going_, she thinks, as she quickly makes her way to the scene.

The biker apologizes half-heartedly, before quickly wheeling away and leaving the woman on the ground. Anna makes it to her, and offers a hand.

Her heart skips a beat, and for a moment she gets lost in the woman's icy blue eyes. She takes in the sight of her magnificent platinum blonde braid, draped over her shoulder, her bangs slightly stuck to her sweat covered forehead. "That guy was an idiot," Anna finally says.

The woman takes Anna's hand and starts to lift herself before letting out a yelp and sinking back to the ground. "My ankle hurts pretty bad," she breathes.

Anna squats down and takes the woman's arm over her shoulder, helping her stand and leading her to a park bench. She then sits her down and takes a seat beside her. "How far away are you from your house?"

"A couple of miles," the platinum blonde responds.

Anna nods. "Well my apartment is just over there," she points. "I could get you wrapped and iced, then drive you to your place."

"You're awfully nice for a stranger."

Anna smiles, shaking her head. "I run here every morning. I see you all the time. We're not really strangers. Besides, I'm pretty good at fixing people up. Used to be a part of my job."

"So, you've been watching me, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike?" the woman smiles.

Anna lets out a small laugh. "I actually had my chance a while ago, but I missed it. My Dad always said that opportunity doesn't knock twice, but there's always the doorbell. I guess this is me ringing the doorbell."

"Your dad sounds like a smart man."

"Of course, he was drunk at the time," Anna laughs.

The statement elicits a laugh from the other woman as well. "Well," she starts, "-my name is Elsa Christensen."

"Okay, Elsa Christensen, my name is Anna Dean and I will be your doctor this fine morning. If you will let me guide you back to my humble apartment, your treatment awaits."

"You're charming," Elsa laughs.

"Yeah. I'm the one you have to watch out for," Anna says softly. "So how about it? You gonna let me wrap that ankle up or not?"

"I guess I don't have much of a choice, now do I?" Elsa asks, lifting a brow.

"You kind of do. I mean you can limp all the way home. It might be a little painful, though."

"I need time to consider my options."

Anna's eyes widen. "But Ms. Christensen, we don't have much time. We need to operate right away."

Elsa smiles again, running a hand through her hair, pulling her bangs off of her forehead. "I guess we should get me out of here then."

Anna stands before leaning down to help Elsa up. They then make the short walk back to Anna's apartment. "So what do you do for a living?" Anna asks as she opens her front door. She guides Elsa into the apartment, helping her to the couch.

Elsa takes in a breath. "I'm a masseuse."

Anna lifts a brow. "Oh really?"

"Yeah," Elsa nods. "In my spare time I do gymnastics and teach yoga." She laughs and runs her hand through her hair again. "Nah, I'm a social worker. I like to go running because sometimes the job just gets to you, you know?"

Anna nods. "Trust me, I know."

"So what is it that you do?"

Anna doesn't have a real response for that. She _was _a smoke jumper, but now she is taking a break. She wants to go back, but she isn't sure if it's the best option. On the other hand, if she doesn't go back- she isn't sure what she's going to do.

"I'm in between jobs," she shrugs.

"Unemployed?"

Anna shakes her head, taking in a breath. "I was… am a smoke jumper. I fight wildfires, and stuff. But I'm taking a break." She looks down at the floor. "I don't know if I'll go back or not, so I'm sort of in between jobs. I might go back, I might move on."

Elsa nods, understandingly. "That sounds dangerous."

"It is," Anna states. "Let me get the wrap and ice."


	2. Sprint Day

Anna is once again pulled from her sleep, followed by Kristoff's scream. She repeats her morning routine of shoving her head in her knees until she gets her breath back.

There's no point in it, she thinks. No point in reliving it. There's no point in going over all the moments, all the details, or asking herself, again, if she could have just done one thing differently.

She can't keep asking herself why Kristoff hadn't followed her drop into the jump spot. Why he'd pulled the wrong toggle. Because, _goddamn it, _he'd pulled the wrong toggle.

And had flown straight into the lethal branches of those burning trees.

It was only a few weeks ago that it happened, and she was supposed to have this long winter to get past it, but recovery, so far, seemed like slow going.

She rubs her hands over her face, and attempts to take a hand through the tangled mess that sits on top of her head. Anna then lies back down, willing herself to get just one more hour of sleep, at least wait until the sun is up. But when she closes her eyes she only sees herself back on the plane, turning toward Kristoff's grin.

She sits back up, knocking the covers from her body, and climbs out of bed. She knows she needs to shake it off, so she figures she'll just grab a shower, some energy bars, and a light workout before heading out for her morning run.

Anna had started separating her days into two categories. She had her sprint days, and she had her jog days. Yesterday was supposed to be a jog day, before she saw Elsa.

She closes her eyes and runs a hand through her hair as she makes her way toward the bathroom. Elsa was beautiful… _is _beautiful. And she's sweet and caring and everything that Anna needs to stay away from. Everything that she doesn't need to taint. Still, Anna can't help but hope that Elsa is in the park almost every day that she goes running. The woman always manages to bring a smile to Anna's face.

Today, though, she's kind of hoping that Elsa isn't there.

One reason is that she's praying that the platinum blonde gives her ankle some time to heal, and the other reason is because today is a sprint day.

It's her own personal form of therapy. Some days she wakes up and she can slowly jog away the thoughts of Kristoff. Other days she wakes up and the only way to get rid of them is to run so hard that she deprives her body of every thought except the concern for how to take the next breath.

It works.

Or so she thinks, at least.

Anna takes her shower, and after she gets dressed she hits her stash of Mountain Dews. It always baffled her fellow jumpers that she never drank coffee unless it was her only choice. She likes the cold and sweet.

She picks up an energy bar, opening it and biting off a fourth, before grabbing yesterday's newspaper. Anna flips to the job section and grabs her cell phone, dialing a number before placing it to her ear. "Hello, is this Sunrise Spa?"

She paces around the kitchen before finally settling down in a chair. "I saw you were looking for a yoga instructor… Yes…. I can drop off my resume today… Yes, 2pm is fine… Thank you. Have a great day."

Anna pulls her phone from her ear and opens her calendar app, setting a reminder for 2pm, right below the one for the 5pm CPR class that she has to teach.

The time between seasons always has an awkward pull-tug feeling. There's the problem of picking up jobs, but then there's also the fact that going back to the base feels like going home. Until the season is finished and returning home feels like going home. It can cross up the circuits.

She stands and walks from the kitchen, toward the living area, so she can grab her mat and start her morning workout.

* * *

Sprint days always follow the same routine. Anna would count off in her head, then take off, pressing the start button on her watch.

Three miles.

She needs to run three miles in less than 22:30. That was what it took to make the jump team each year. It didn't matter how long you had been there, if you didn't make that time, you didn't make the team.

This sprint day is no different from any other.

Anna mentally counts down in her head, and when she reaches _Go! _she hits the timer button on her watch and digs in, kicks up her pace and runs for, what is in a very large sense, her life.

The early winter chill is nipping at her skin through her clothes, but she can't think about it. She just focuses on mile one, and when she passes the marker, she notes her time at 5:10. _Mile two_, she orders herself, and keeps her stride smooth and her pace steady.

The burn starts to rise from her toes to her ankles, flowing up her calves. Sweat runs -hot for now, but soon to be cold- down her back, down her chest, over her galloping heart. Her time is good, she could slow her pace but the stress of anything happening to slow her down pushes her.

Don't let up.

When she passes mile two she is moved from the burn, and sweat, to mindless. After a few minutes she blows past the last marker and slaps stop on her watch, running an extra twenty-five yards before she can convince her legs it's okay to stop.

She looks down at her arm. 18:10. Not bad, she thinks. She wants to sit and rest but she knows her legs could probably use a slow cool down lap, despite how much her body is protesting the idea.

_Once around the park, then home. _The thought sounds good to her, so she begins to make her way around. Three minutes into her cool down lap, she's stopped by a face she was hoping she wouldn't see.

Anna spots Elsa on a park bench, lacing up her running shoes. She heads toward the bench and stops in front of the platinum blonde, bouncing from foot-to-foot to keep her legs moving.

Elsa looks up and Anna shoots the platinum blonde her best smile. "How's the ankle?" she asks. "Is the job really that bad, that you can't take a day off from running?"

Elsa laughs as she finishes lacing her shoe and slowly lets her foot drop to the ground. "I have other things going on, so I guess so, yeah. Don't worry, though, it's healing up nicely, and I'm settling on a good ol' power walk today."

"That's good, soccer mom."

"Whatever," Elsa laughs. "I saw you running. You training for some impossible marathon?"

"That run?" Anna huffs. "That's like every day in jump training."

"So you're training to go back?"

Anna shrugs. "I don't know, maybe just training just in case."

"I see you've got a lot of… stamina." Anna shoots Elsa a toothy grin, lifting a brow. "I'm sorry," Elsa laughs, "-I was trying to compliment you, but I don't know how to compliment a run. I'll just say that if I did that, I'd be dead."

"Sure," Anna laughs. "I also have a lot of stamina horizontally," she says with a wink.

"Papa always told me to stay away from you heartbreakers." Elsa shakes her head, smiling. "I did a little research about you smoke jumpers online. You guys and girls are just… well, amazing. I can't imagine… you must have some great stories."

"Bad ones too."

Elsa takes in a breath. "Yeah, I'm sure… Well, you must be back and forth between here and your base a lot, so maybe it wouldn't be wise if we started anything."

Anna shrugs, a small grin on her face. "I was thinking of something more along the lines of a one time shot in the barrel, you know? Careless pop of the cork out of the lust bottle."

"Oh, well then we're looking for two different things here."

"C'mon. I could take you on a date first if that's what you prefer." Anna sniffs and looks at the ground as her smile starts to fade.

Elsa stands from the bench and moves close to Anna. So close that the strawberry-blonde can feel the taller woman's heat radiating from her body. A smile crosses Elsa's lips, her face lighting up in the dappled sunlight. "I bet women have trouble saying no to those pretty teal eyes."

"I do okay," Anna whispers, looking up into Elsa's eyes.

Elsa nods. "The question here isn't whether or not I should roll around in the sack with you… it's whether or not you think that will actually help get rid of what's eating at you. Whatever is gnawing at you from the inside."

Anna clears her throat and takes a step back, the situation suddenly too real for her to feel comfortable in.

"Well," she smiles, "-guess I can't win them all. Weather is getting cold," she starts, changing the subject. "-so I'll probably be moving my running to inside."

"I didn't mean to offend you," Elsa apologizes.

"You didn't." Anna runs a hand through her hair. "I uhhh, I'm trying to pick up teaching a yoga class for my off season, in case you're actually interested in trying it… is why I'm telling you."

Anna takes in a deep breath and decides to do something that goes against every ounce of her instinct. "Ah, Elsa… it's fun seeing you in the park and all, but what do you think about meeting in maybe a different setting? It doesn't have to be a date… I just like talking to you."

"Okay," Elsa replies. "But I'm holding firm to my decision to not do the one-time horizontal shuffle with you. I'm not your hit it and quit it girl."

"That's fine with me," Anna smiles.

* * *

"Hey, Mrs. Bjorgman." Anna shifts on the couch with the phone to her ear, grabbing a pillow into her chest with her free hand.

"Hey, Anna," comes the soothing voice of a caring mother from the other end of the phone.

Anna traces the designs woven into the pillow with her finger as she begins to speak again. "I'm just calling to check in. How are you? How's Sven?"

"Things get a little easier each day, Anna. You should call Sven."

Anna takes in a breath. "I don't think either one of us is ready for that right now."

It's the truth. The last time Anna talked to Sven he was hellbent on getting answers and knowing what happened to his brother. She told him it looked like an accident, but something about that didn't sit right with either one of them- only Sven was willing to admit it.

It's harder for him, though, Anna thinks. He and Kristoff had been inseparable, so now when he goes anywhere without his brother the questions start pouring in. And his resemblance to Kristoff always reminds everyone who sees him of what happened.

If Anna were put in that situation she'd want answers as well.

"It would probably help if you talked," Mrs. Bjorgman says.

Anna nods to herself. "In time. We just need a breather, I think. Do you know if he's going back in for spring training. It's understandable if he doesn't. I'm sure the unit would support any decision he made."

"I'm not sure at this point. Fighting fires is the only thing he knows, so it would be hard for him not to go back." She pauses for a moment. "You know, Anna… it would probably be okay if you didn't go back, if that is an option you've been considering. I know how close you were to Kristoff. He talked about you all the time. I thought you two might get married," she laughs. Her voice lowers. "I always wanted a daughter."

"Well, I'm always here when you need me, Mrs. Bjorgman. Maybe we weren't going to get married, but he _was _like a brother to me. And he was damn good brother. I only knew him a year so I can't possibly imagine what Sven is feeling. When I know what to say… that's when I'll call him."

Mrs. Bjorgman releases a deep sigh. "You're _never _going to know what to say, Anna. I'm not going to force you to call him, or pressure you, but I think you should keep that in mind."

Anna quiets for a moment as a tears falls down her cheek. Then an unexpected smile spreads across her lips. "Did I ever tell you the story of Kristoff's first jump."

Mrs. Bjorgman lets out a small laugh. "I don't think you have."

Anna sniffs. "I remember I was right in the heart of the wildfire. It was beating hot and hard. I was sweating so much, my chainsaw shrieking through bark and wood and the sound of crackling, crashing trees all around. You know, standard stuff."

"Mhm."

"Yeah. The acting fire boss told me he was taking me off the saw line. Said the head shifted. He told me to take some people up the ridge, and watch my ass." Anna laughs. "I grabbed my gear and my teammates and made the half mile climb through the smoke and the heat. We beat, shoveled, and dug our way up the ridge."

"I'll never get over how brave you lot are."

"We're really just a bunch of nuts," Anna laughs. "We made it toward the head, so I told the fire boss we were clear, that they could drop the mud. After that we chased down spot fires, some no bigger than a dinner platter, all the while moving up the ridge."

Anna shifts on the couch and takes in a breath. "We dug, cut, beat, and hacked for hours, but I felt it. The minute it started to turn our way. The smoke was thinning. Day had turned into night while we battled."

She pauses a moment, listening to the sound of Mrs. Bjorgman breathing. "I had just downed a dead pine when I heard the cry of shock and pain. I swung around in time to see Kristoff go down."

"Oh my," Mrs. Bjorgman breathes.

"His chainsaw bounced out of his hands and rolled. I dropped my own and lunged toward him. I pushed his hands away and tore at his pants to widen the tear. He kept screaming he didn't know what happened. I knew fatigue had made him sloppy, caused him to lose his grip on the saw, or use it carelessly. He kept asking how bad, so I yelled 'It's a scratch, toughen up!' all the while praying it was just a scratch."

"Was it?"

"Yeah. He had a pretty nice gash," Anna smiles. "A little deeper, a little to the left, it would have been a different story. I told him he would be okay. I would have lied if necessary, but thankfully I didn't have to. He gave me this wobbly smile, but I heard the click in his throat as he swallowed. Then he asked, 'I didn't cut off anything essential did I?'"

Mrs. Bjorgman laughs, and so does Anna. "I told him his junk was in tact. I told him he wouldn't be out too long, and that he'd have a sexy scar to impress the women. And it did impress the women."


End file.
